Artifical Afterlife
by storywriter84
Summary: Seeley Booth died. Well, not really. Story is about Booth's short venture into his artificial afterlife. One Shot.


A/N: So this idea had been driving me crazy since the end of last season. What exactly had Seeley Booth been up to when he was dead? I've rewritten this story a couple of different times and this is the one that stuck. Megan

_Artificial Afterlife_

The official hospital badge on her borrowed scrubs labeled her as _Kate_. The blonde grabbed the chart and took a deep breath. "It's for the best," Cullen said, suddenly, from behind her. She turned around to face him. "Everything will be okay. This is the way it's supposed to be."

"Aren't you on extended leave or something," she asked him, irritated, taking the cup of coffee he offered her.

"I think I'm ready to come back," he said, with a small smile. "Why don't you take a minute before you go out there? Just remember to act professional and not to acknowledge Dr. Saroyan above the norm."

_Kate_ scowled at him. "I know how to do my job," she told him, handing him the coffee, "you act like I've never done this before." She sighed to herself, sitting the chart down to fix her hair. "I'm going to see Parker before you have _the body_ moved," she told him. He nodded. "Wish me luck," she said, picking the chart up and walking through the door, slamming the swinging door as hard as she could.

"Luck," Sam Cullen called after her. "You're going to need it," he said to himself, thinking of all Dr. Temperance Brennan's possible reactions.

- - - - - -

_And now a story making national headlines this morning . . . last night Special Agent Seeley Booth of the FBI was pronounced dead at the George Washington Memorial Hospital outside of D.C. after being shot by a stalker who was after his partner. Special Agent Booth leaves behind his mother, his younger brother and sister, and his 6-year-old son. . . _

- - - - - -

Special Agent Seeley Booth of the FBI remembered agreeing to fake his death to catch a criminal he had run underground years ago. He did not remember anything between that agreement and arriving at the Safe House. He slept fitfully on and off for two days before making his way downstairs on his own accord.

He heard music playing as he painfully made his way down the stairs. He smelled something good . . . someone was baking . . . pie . . . and singing. ". . . Secret Agent Man. Secret Agent Man. He's giving you a number and taking away your name. . ."

Seeley shook his head at the sound. It was a familiar song sung by a familiar voice and he idly wondered what strings she had to pull to get this assignment as he entered the kitchen. It was bright and homey – a lot of yellow. He recognized the man sitting at the table immediately. The man sat, watching his partner roll out pie dough with an amused smile on his face as she bounced around to the music and sang loudly along with the stereo. A big brindle boxer lay in front of the stove, snoring noisily. Seeley coughed loudly.

The girl turned around, smiling. She wore dark blue jeans and a black tank top underneath a red apron, practically covered in flour. "The Dead Man walks," she smirked, sitting her rolling pin down. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I've been shot," he grunted, walking further into the kitchen and practically falling into the nearest chair. "Smells good in here, though, Breena," he smiled at her.

"Only you, Superhero, would be worrying about pie at a time like this. Sanders, did the dry cleaning arrive yet?"

"Should be here tomorrow," he answered, standing up. "I'm going to read the newspaper. Call me when it's time for pie."

"What do you need that had to be dry cleaned," Booth asked, leaning heavily back into the chair, as Sanders disappeared from the room. His little sister didn't usually bother with clothes that needed a lot of maintenance.

"My funeral outfits," she answered, picking her rolling pin up and continuing to work.

"Outfits," he asked, "plural?"

"One for your fake funeral. The other is for Pam Nunan's funeral."

Booth took a deep breath. "You're going to the funeral of the woman that shot me," he asked. "Why?"

Breena shrugged. "She _killed_ my brother. Not really, but you know what I mean. Anyway, Sanders and I are going, using our cover identities and then we'll be going to yours."

"Are they on the same day," he asked, morbidly interested.

"Nunan's is a few days before yours. You have about a week and a half to get yourself healed enough to take this guy down. They're sending someone over with updated Intel on Xavier after dinner," she said, placing the dough over the pie pan. "Are they telling Parker?"

"Rebecca is. I'm not sure what she's going to say to him but I'm sure I'll be making it up to him for a few years at least."

"It'll be a heck of a therapy bill," Breena nodded.

"Therapy is crap," Booth muttered.

"How would you know," she asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

"Oh, well, it's no big deal . . ."

Breena giggled. "You're going to _therapy_? Seeley Booth, Man of Action, Superhero Extraordinaire is talking - - about his _feelings_? Oh, to be a fly on the wall." She bit her bottom lip as she continued making the pie.

"It's not just me. It's Bones, too. It's the two of us. They wanted to split us up after I arrested her father and going to see this _Therapist_ is the only way they'll let us remain partners. We have to talk about our differences and junk and learn . . . things."

"So, it's like, what, couples therapy," Breena inquired, not looking at her brother. "You have to learn to communicate and share your feelings." She was laughing on the inside but kept from laughing aloud anymore, she was sure her brother wouldn't take kindly to it. She was proud of him actually. That couldn't be easy on him. She hoped they didn't bring up his time in the service too much.

"So, is that the first pie," Seeley asked with his charm smile. Breena rolled her eyes and grabbed another pie that had been sitting in the microwave. She yelled for Sanders to come back as she made a pot of coffee. She started a second pot when Sanders went and answered the door, allowing three other agents into the safe house. They looked as if they were heading out for a camping trip, which was the point. Three people in suits in the middle of nowhere would tip people off.

The dog slept on.

Agents Leo Morelli, Brogan Trevett, and Corey Merriman crowded around the table. After inquires of Seeley's health, they each grabbed a slice of pie and a cup of coffee and started filling everyone in. "Marcus Xavier went underground six years ago," Morelli said. Seeley rolled his eyes, but remained silent. They had to go over _all_ the information. Seeley continued to eat his slice of pie, glancing at his sister every once in a while. She knew most of what happened, he had told her and she had read the file, but he didn't like the look on her face while she listened to Morelli describe the events that had happened.

By the time the three agents quit talking, two pies and six pots of coffee had been demolished. The room was silent except for the clatter of dirty dishes as Sanders and Trevett tidied up the kitchen. "How will we know for sure that he found out that I died," Seeley asked, trying to be objective.

"It's airing on all the major news channels," Morelli told them.

Breena frowned. Reigning Xavier in was one thing, but outing Seeley as an Agent put a potential damper on any future undercover assignments for him. Well, maybe not, Seeley was very good at blending in and getting people to believe what he wanted them to but she didn't hold out much hope. Her brother was a man's man and a lady's man. Men wanted to be like him and women just plain wanted him.

She saw a small frown on Seeley's face. "Has everyone on my list been told," he asked, quietly.

Morelli nodded. "It's been taken care of."

The dog got up and went to the table, whining for something to eat. Everyone laughed.

- - - - - -

The next morning Seeley walked slowly behind Sanders, Breena's hand tucked firmly in his elbow as they walked down the path. The garage by the house was huge and although there were three or four very nice vehicles sitting around (mostly for show, to keep people away) that was nothing compared to what was _in_ the garage.

"If I died," Seeley said, "I've gone to Heaven."

Sanders chuckled, flicking on more lights so they could see. There sat a powder blue 1970 Dodge Hemi Challenger RT. "We saw it during our last assignment," he explained, "and thought of you. I had someone go pick it up when I came to set up the safe house. We figured it would give you something to do while you're recuperating."

Seeley smiled at Breena, like a five year old on Christmas morning, before going around and sliding into the driver's seat. "Wow," he said, causing Breena to laugh. Seeley and Sanders went over every inch of the car, talking, laughing, and making lewd jokes. When they started talking about tearing the transmission apart, Breena excused herself back to the house.

"So, how are you feeling, really," Sanders said, leaning against the wall of the garage.

"Alright," Seeley answered, staring at the engine, using the car to keep him upright. "I'll feel better when I get home though. This has to be hard on everyone, even with them knowing." Seeley sighed, picking up a wrench. "How's Breena doing? I mean I know that she probably doesn't talk about a lot of things, but . . ."

Sanders shrugged. "She's doing alright. She had a bad week last month, it being the anniversary of your Dad's death and all. We almost had a run in with Jared about a month and a half ago. It was one of those right place, wrong time things or something. Anyway, the assignment is over and we'll move on soon."

"Your wife must hate that," Seeley commented, pulling a stool over to sit down.

Sanders shrugged. "She's former FBI. She knows. She's not happy but she and Breena are friends so it's not so bad. The kids adore Breena though. Maybe we'll go home for a little while before the next case."

Seeley nodded. His sister lived in a little apartment above Sanders' garage in Connecticut. She didn't need a lot of room and there was enough back yard for her dog to run around in crazily chasing Sanders two little girls. He sighed. "I just worry about her and sometimes my life is just so crazy," he shook his head as if that would help him think.

"I know," Sanders said, "and Breena does, too. Our next assignment might bring us to the D.C. area for a few months. We'll let you know." Seeley nodded. "Alright, so let's take a look at this engine."

- - - - - -

Breena was sprawled out on the overstuffed couch; her 80 pound dog lay across her legs as she flipped through the channels. Lindsay starting making some noises and twitching, causing Breena to laugh as the dog moved around in her sleep. Adjusting her pillow, she laid back down, turning the television back on to CNN.

_In other news_, the newscaster said, _the parents of Pam Nunan, the woman who shot Special Agent Seeley Booth, earlier this week spoke at a news conference today_.

"Well, this ought to be good," she mumbled to herself. The screen flickered to images of a hastily set up press conference. There were a few chaotic seconds as people put things into place. A man in a business suit stepped forward. She decided immediately that this would have to be the lawyer. She was right, too. The caption under him said that his name was _Richard Bremser, Lawyer_.

She sighed as he introduced his clients – Robert and Mary Nunan. Holy crap, this family had boring names. Robert, Mary, and Pam? Geesh. She listened to them talk going on about how their daughter just lost her fiancé. She rolled her eyes. Pam Nunan was delusional and thought everyone that was remotely nice to her was in love with her. Breena had always known people like that but Pam Nunan was beyond and above them all.

She felt bad for the couple, that they lost their daughter, but their daughter had tried to kill her brother's partner – had actually _shot her brother_. How could they not know that there was something wrong with their daughter? Living in another part of the country was no excuse because according to Seeley they talked often. She shook her head. Her own family was screwed up enough, there was no use trying to figure out anyone else's.

- - - - - -

Booth had the kitchen table covered in papers – reports from when he was after Xavier the first time, reports from other Agents, reports from Law Enforcement, Xavier's records among other things. He wanted all of this taken care of before he went back to his actual life. Sure, it had been nice to not go chasing after bad guys for two weeks but being laid up because of a gunshot wound was never fun or particularly pleasant.

He could hear the television playing in the living room – Sanders keeping an eye out. He knew that Breena was upstairs, sleeping. All of this had been hard on her emotionally. Seeley was sure that she had been thinking about all the times that he could have died. He figured that because he'd been thinking about the same thing the whole time he'd been at here at the safe house.

Yes, he was glad to have somewhere safe to recover at and spend some time with his sister, but it was time to go back home, go back to work, go back to Bones.

He sighed, putting all the papers away before heading up to bed. After all, he was being buried in the morning.

- - - - - -

Sanders and Breena (a.k.a. – Mark and Jenna Castle) walked to the gravesite slowly. Sanders knew his partner well enough to realize that even if she had just seen her brother and hugged him after she had adjusted his collar not fifteen minutes ago, that she was freaking out. The older Booth got into more than his fair share of trouble and the idea of losing him, scared Breena witless. Sanders patted her hand, tucked into the crook of his elbow, with a small smile. She smiled back and they went to stand opposite of Seeley so they could help to keep an eye out.

Breena looked around. There were only a select few people that knew the truth, let alone that Seeley was standing nearby. She frowned when she noted a few key people missing . . . their brother (Jared), Rebecca, and Parker, their grandparents, several Agents that Booth thought highly of.

Breena easily recognized the "Squint Squad" and she noticed they all looked extremely sad. She recognized Cam, of course, having worked with her before in New York. She was able to figure out who everyone else was by process of elimination. The shorter, young man would have to be the psychologist Seeley mentioned - - Sweets. The taller one had to be the other Forensic Anthropologist. Addy, wasn't it. Yes, Dr. Zack Addy, she recalled. Hmm, they were both very . . . cute . . . there was no other word for it. The couple practically clinging too each other had to be Dr. Jack Hodgins and Angela Montenegro. They were engaged, if she recalled, pending Angela's divorce. That left only Dr. Temperance Brennan (or Bones, if you were Seeley). Breena had seen her at the hospital, of course, when she had dressed up in scrubs to tell the squints the bad news. Although Cam hadn't been on the list, Breena had made sure that she had gotten the message, no matter how subtle. She hadn't gotten a good look at the forensic anthropologist, so she took her time to study her now. She noticed the Dr. Brennan was just as beautiful as Seeley described. Of course, he had been drugged up at the time, since he had been too stubborn to listen to her. He had rambled on about how much he was in love with the auburn haired scientist, about how she deserved so much more than she was getting.

Dr. Brennan looked incredibly sad. She must be an incredibly gifted actress since she knew that he wasn't dead. Hell, Breena knew that the good doctor's name was at the top of Seeley's List. She looked like she lost her whole world, though, which made Breena question just how much her brother's partner knew.

She was glad to see Sam Cullen and his wife standing nearby. She thought she could see him smirk at her, but he was too far away to be sure. She was sure, though, that Caroline Julian winked at her before stepping forward to give the eulogy.

Sanders and Breena paid little attention to Caroline Julian's words. They discreetly scanned the surrounding area, keeping their eye out for Xavier. Seeley saw him first, of course, and ran out of formation like a crazy person, pushing past people. There was a scuffle as Xavier and Seeley started fighting.

Breena glanced over to Seeley's partner. If it was physically possible, the doctor's face had fallen even more. She looked equally confused and hurt. As the coffin fell off its stool, and the fake, weighted body fell to the ground, Dr. Brennan snapped out of it and rushed forward, picking up the arm of the dummy. She whacked Xavier with it.

Breena heard her partner chuckle as Seeley jumped up.

"Nice hit, Bones," Seeley said, using his charm smile. Breena could tell that he was really happy to see his partner. His partner, however . . .

Breena watched as Temperance Brennan pulled her arm back and punched Seeley Booth with all of her might before stomping out of the cemetery. Retrieving her arm from her partner, Breena stepped forward, steadying the stumbling FBI Agent. "That certainly went well, don't you think," she asked him as two agents cuffed Xavier.

He just rolled his eyes at her before taking off after his partner across the cemetery.

Breena and Sanders smiled at each other as the funeral attendees started going back to their vehicles, most of them confused. The team from the Jeffersonian left, except for Cam who slowly made her way over to the undercover duo. "I, uh, thanks," Cam said, awkwardly.

A/N: So there it is. I'm not sure how much I actually like it but I've rewritten it so many times that I've decided that I'm done. This is it. Of course, I have some ideas involving Breena and Sanders if people are interested. Let me know what you think. Of course, reviews are very welcomed. Happy Thanksgiving to the U.S. readers! Megan


End file.
